Chapter 16: A Candidate for Gyoryeong
It was both astonishing and made me involuntarily frown.
Why, of all things, did it have to be this? The smell alone was so foul it felt like my mouth would rot and my head would explode. Yet, knowing its immense efficacy, I couldn’t simply dismiss it. If it could shorten the time needed to recover my cultivation, then what was a little stench? My only concern was whether I could obtain the remaining two ingredients.
I immediately called for Yun.
Yun, who had been avoiding me, entered with a grimace as if he had been dragged straight from hell. I handed him the shell of the Yukgangmang.
Yun recoiled in horror.
“Brother, have I done something terribly wrong?”
“No.”
“Then why are you making me throw this away?”
The unspoken words—“Call Songhwa instead”—hung faintly in the air.
It was impossible to do this without a heavy heart. The stench of the Yukgangmang, which had died after sucking blood, was even worse than before, permeating the entire Cheonhwaseogo. And here, in this room, it was the most unbearable. Asking someone to dispose of this foul-smelling shell required almost a personal grudge.
“What nonsense! Why would I throw away something so precious?”
“Huh?”
“Dry this Yukgangmang shell carefully in the sun for four days and in the shade for seven days. Then divide it into dozens of pieces and store them in the secret vault. Ancient texts say there is no better remedy for body aches or depleted energy. It also quickly revitalizes those who practice martial arts when their energy wanes temporarily. If taken after being poisoned, it neutralizes toxins. If crushed and applied to wounds, they heal instantly without scars. How could it not be precious?”
“……Yes.”
All of this was stored in Beomhang’s memories. Truly fitting for someone who researched and explored everything, his knowledge of Yukgangmang was exhaustive.
Yun looked miserable.
With such efficacy, there were plenty of alternatives—why must I dry this?
As Yun sullenly packed the shell into a black pouch and sealed it, I continued.
“And when you go to the secret vault, bring five days’ worth of Byeokgokdan.”
“What will you use the Byeokgokdan for?”
“Ancient texts say that to maximize Yukgangmang’s effects, one must limit food intake until the medicinal properties fully take effect. For at least five days, I will meet no one. Understand?”
“Yes.”
The last part was a lie.
I simply wanted to focus on energy circulation so that Yukgangmang’s noxious blood could properly integrate into my body.
After Yun left, I called for Songhwa.
Songhwa entered with her nose and mouth wrapped in layers of cloth. I instructed her to refrain from visiting for five days and added one more directive.
“My body reeks terribly right now, so inform Grandfather on my behalf. And what did I ask you to request from him?”
“Yeongakcho and Dogyangchung.”
“Good. Grandfather will understand what that means when you tell him. You may go.”
The clan leader would surely know the records from ancient texts.
The moment Songhwa’s reply faded, my hair fluttered as she vanished in a gust of wind.
“…….”
Everyone is too fast.
The fifth day at my residence.
Flicker.
The moment I opened my eyes after sitting cross-legged in meditation, a divine light flashed within them.
‘I’ve reached the 2nd Star.’
The ordeal of enduring the stench had paid off. Thanks to Yukgangmang’s power, I achieved in an instant what had taken me over four years previously. Of course, this was possible because I had already walked this path before, grounded in martial enlightenment and supreme consciousness.
I sharpened my vision to gaze at the distant wall. The intricate patterns embroidered on it expanded before my eyes, revealing every detail down to the dust lodged in its cracks.
My hearing had also sharpened; I could clearly perceive movements outside.
The faint murmurs of conversation from a distance were distinct—Yun and Bumong were talking now.
“Brother, I’m so hungry my stomach feels like it’s sticking to my back. Can’t we eat something?”
“Bumong, who told you not to eat?”
“Well… since Big Brother is only taking Byeokgokdan and you’re following suit, how can I eat alone?”
“Then endure a little longer. Today is the fifth day.”
‘Haha… these foolish brothers of mine.’
The absurdity made me chuckle inwardly. They hadn’t even taken Yukgangmang—why were they fasting with Byeokgokdan?
The younger brothers born late were oddly endearing in their own way.
After calming the divine light in my eyes, I found a mirror to examine myself. The first thing visible was my white clothes, now stained black.
For five days, black liquid had oozed from every pore, dyeing my robes anew each time. This was due to the toxins and waste expelled from my blood vessels and internal organs after achieving the unity of essence, energy, and spirit through memory transference.
My physical state had become impeccably pure. My body felt lighter, my mind clearer, and my skin more radiant.
‘Remarkable.’
The reflection showed a man in his twenties—tall, upright, and fair-faced.
What once felt unfamiliar was now growing familiar.
Yet I wasn’t entirely satisfied. I was still too lean.
Despite eating well daily, my starting point had been skeletal. Gaining healthy weight would take time. Some might envy my lack of excess fat, but I found it displeasing.
My hands lacked plumpness, their slender elegance unsatisfying. How much more striking would they look with a fuller shape when channeling tension…
“Ahem.”
I briefly entertained the thought of testing this on someone but quickly dismissed it. The inevitable questions and explanations would be tedious.
Not that I lacked means to test my progress.
For confirming breakthroughs, nothing surpassed ‘Gyoryeong.’
I immediately recited Gyoryeong’s core mantra and activated it.
‘Start with the right arm.’
Crack.
Bones creaked as my right arm twisted and shrank.
Thud. Crack.
Bones bent, skin folded, and my arm reduced to two-thirds its original length. My once-slender hand crumpled into a grotesque, child-sized claw.
There was no pain.
Bone-shrinking techniques like Gyoryeong measured one’s mastery over the body—a complex balance of bone, meridians, blood pathways, and skin regeneration.
Though Gyoryeong, a subtype of bone-shrinking arts, was traditionally used to slip through narrow crevices, I’d never employed it for such purposes.
Why contort oneself when you could simply smash the obstacle? Its true value lay in application to others.
Crack. Snap.
My arm slowly returned with grating bone noises, its sluggish restoration befitting 2nd Star proficiency.
‘Speaking of which…’
The thought triggered a sudden memory, making me laugh aloud.
A man who remained childlike despite his years.
The Bone-Crushing Monk of the Esoteric Sect.
In sheer eccentricity, none surpassed the Esoteric Sect.
Seven years prior, the monk had been researching a new technique. When asked, he revealed it was a mystical art to transform one’s body into smoke and escape through narrow gaps—a method surpassing bone-shrinking arts, comparable to immortal magic.
“Sect Leader, this transcends mere Gyoryeong! It rivals the arts of immortals!”
He’d sparkled with naive excitement, claiming it would allow escape from any confinement.
When he proudly asked my opinion, I’d cocked my head in confusion.
“Monk, why get trapped in the first place? Just kill them all beforehand.”
He’d gaped wordlessly before sinking into gloom. Despite my practical advice, he likely continued his research. The Esoteric Sect’s monks shared his peculiar obsessions.
Two days later.
Cheon Gyu-in, leader of the Cheonhwaseogo guard unit known as the Thunderous Hand, summoned Songhwa.
Songhwa approached and bowed respectfully.
“Lord, you called for me?”
“Your efforts are noted.”
“It’s nothing.”
“I summoned you due to recent concerns. While the Grand Young Master displays changed behavior, the abruptness troubles me.”
Songhwa’s eyes widened.
“Does the Lord still doubt him?”
“I wish to believe otherwise. But the moment everyone lowers their guard may be the most dangerous. Our unit must remain vigilant.”
“Understood.”
Songhwa’s heart raced with sudden unease. She realized she’d grown complacent, barely checking on him during his meditative fasting.
“I’ve been negligent. I’ll reinforce security and maintain strict watch.”
As Songhwa withdrew, Cheon Gyu-in’s eyes narrowed with a sinister glint.
‘Hoho… What if it’s all an act? If the Grand Young Master is feigning this transformation, what grand scheme does he plot?’
The physical training paled compared to recent events—his casual outings, networking with noble scions, even consuming Yukgangmang’s blood.
If the heir apparent were to take his own life now, when the clan leader and all members were buoyed by hope…
‘It would mean Cheonhwaseogo’s ruin.’
He recalled his conversation with the Chief Steward:
“The Grand Young Master’s ruthlessness defies description. Hoho. Even if the world changes, he remains constant. And I support him.”
“Are you suggesting even this change is an act?”
“Naturally. That’s who he is.”
‘Perhaps it isn’t an act. But does it matter?’
The Chief Steward’s arrival approached.
It must be concluded before then.
A faint smile crept onto Cheon Gyu-in’s lips.
